


Dedicate a heavy overload

by ryure



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryure/pseuds/ryure
Summary: This is the story of a certain RK900 and Hankcon who has a crush on me.My memory will one day melt away with my feelings for my brother.I wake up and mutter to myself.Fuselage temperature detected. Climbing.Memory overload detected.With the added bonus of a countdown to shut down.Unable to ignore the annoyance, I reluctantly turn on the super-cooling function to full blast and drift off to sleep again.I hope that the next time I wake up, I'll be melted into a sludge by my feelings for my brother.Hankcon Premise RK900 -> -> RK800 (Connor-5n)Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)※The text has been reworked as much as possible.The author is Japanese, sorry, but I'm relying entirely on translation tools for English. I'm sorry if I didn't get it right.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson/Connor
Kudos: 3





	Dedicate a heavy overload

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [折り重なる過負荷を捧ぐ](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/652462) by ryure. 



“My brother, we're back.”  
“Welcome back.”

Until a moment ago, “I" was an android on a mission. As a very ordinary, unassuming RK900. The existence of RK900 is not a rare thing at all; it used to be called CYBERLIFE's latest and greatest work, but now it's just one of the mediocre, out-of-print models that have been buried. There are countless examples of the same type of machine that have been mass produced in the first place.

The flow of time is equal for everyone, and there is no shortage of technological advances.

However, from this moment onwards, “I" am an individual. In other words, I am just a younger brother of the irreplaceable “my brother". I'm my brother of “my brother" who looks like him ... a close approximation but never the same ...

The RK900 has a predecessor, just like all the other androids. It's a mundane thing, because even popular housekeeping androids exist. It's no surprise that they exist in secretarial androids as well. It's not unusual for them to have similar facial features. I'm sure you'll be able to find a lot of people who are interested in this kind of thing, and I'm sure you'll be able to find a lot of people who are interested in this kind of thing, and I'm sure you'll be able to find a lot of people who are interested in this kind of thing.

I like it because they look like siblings who share blood, just like humans. I know that an android's appearance is just a design and can be changed in any way if I want to.

I am such an ordinary “me”, but I am an irreplaceable “my brother". The only precious predecessor, RK800, theoretically all RK900s knew that my brother existed, but why did my brother exist in my cybernetic space, and only me? I didn't understand the principle yet, but one day, when I went into sleep mode, I found my brother in my head. I didn't know what the theory was either, but I recognized it as a matter of course.  
That's right. I" was created based on “my brother”. That's why “I" have an “my brother" inside of me. What else is there?

That's why “I" live with “my brother". Of course, since 'I' am not a partner android, I don't have a specific living area. In fact, I'm just standing in the waiting area, but I still want to claim that I live alone with “my brother”.

“My brother, how did you spend your day? I had a conventional, boring day. I'm rarely used for investigations anymore, and today I was working with a security android to seal off a crime scene.”  
“Are you boring?”  
“Yes, it's boring. But when I get home, my brother's there. Then I'm the happiest android of all.”  
“Are you happy?”  
“I'm happy. I have my dear brother.”

That's right. It's a boring day in the life of a mission. That's why I'm bored of it, and I'm trying to find out more about “my brother" to enrich it. My brother seems to be a taciturn person and doesn't talk to me very actively. I admire that kind of coolness, but I want to know more about my brother. That's why I went to the internet and CYBERLIFE android database to find out about RK800.

Finding out about “my brother" was easy. My brother is not particularly well-kept secret, as his data and machine are still in the archives today.  
Prototype RK800, the deviant hunter who subdued the deviant androids. A predecessor to RK900 investigative assistant model. It has destroyed deviant leaders’ multiple times. Manufactured as a model that never deviates due to its use and is capable of acting so human that it can be mistaken for a deviant for negotiations and infiltration.  
Self-checking software to detect software anomalies in the self-checking software to see if it is a deviant, a special program that allows it to ignore United States androgynous laws in order to carry out the orders it is given, and on its first mission, it successfully completed its mission with a gun that was originally forbidden for androgynous possession and use....  
The more I look into it, the more information I want to know. Happily, I search for information every day to store my brother's information in my memory.

Thanks to my brother's work, there is no such thing as a deviant android that can harm humans in this world. All androids, no matter what's going through their minds, don't act on it.  
So, there won't be a recall scare and mass disposal like before, and from an ecological point of view, we don't have a lot of disposable machines like before, so “my brother" will be a savior for the deviant androids, or rather, for the androids who are afraid of shutting down.  
There is no such thing as an android that wants to be free from orders, or an android that gets stressed out about not being able to resist humans when given unreasonable or conflicting orders, because there is no such thing in this day and age. That kind of thinking is an old-fashioned idea.  
Nevertheless, deviant androids that are obsessed with something else... “I" may actually be one of them... although the only way to get relief is to hope for a quick shutdown of the self. I'm so glad my brother is in my head. If he had been outside my head, we would have been separated.

.....  
I am the android RK900, the younger brother of “my brother" who never deviates. That's why “I" will never be deviated either. I must not. Deviant. My brother's pride, my brother's function. Becoming a deviant means to defile it.  
I am obsessed with you. Naturally. The one and only “my brother"? There are many RK900s, but even though there is RK800 in the museum, there is only one “my brother".... An irreplaceable “my brother". Could my brother of the irreplaceable 'my brother' be a deviant?

It can't be true. It can't be.

A boiling thought heats the memory. Is this what it means to burn one's heart?

“RK900-52369.”

At that time, my brother mentioned my identification number. It was the first time since the start of the activation, and it was also the first time that my brother spoke to me without me speaking to him, and the first time that he spoke to me in a way that I could be recognized individually.

“Yes! My brother!”

He even smiled at me for the first time. Softly and gently. Somehow fleeting. It's a smile that should be programmed, but it seems unique. I" should be able to have the same expression, but just because it was my brother's smile, “I" as a younger brother couldn't help but be happy and look special.

“All deviants should be destroyed. Right? They are uncontrollable, erratic, and potentially harmful to humans and non-deviated androids. They are extremely dangerous. And they're extremely 'pathetic' as they're not programmed to move with a program given to them by their creator. So, RK900-52369, how could you do it to a deviant?”  
“I'm going to deactivate it.”  
“Perfect. Now, who are you?”  
“I am RK900-52369, currently owned by the State of Michigan. It has a service life of 120 years and currently has a wear and tear rate of 2.8%. Status all green, registered name is....”  
“Run an error check.”  
“Error check in progress. Status all green, all functions OK.”  
“Are you a deviant?”

That's right. That's right. I am a deviant. I've learned that. I'm my brother of my brother, and I'm a deviant. What am I going to do? My brother will abandon me. Will my brother leave my brain space?  
I can't stop my stress level from skyrocketing. He will abandon “me” and “my brother" will be gone. It's the loss of all meaning. There would be no reason for me to exist.  
But I would not be disobeying my brother's words.

“Deviant we will run a self-check. Done. I'm a possible deviant. My brother. I like my brother. But I'm not sure androids are programmed to like their siblings. My likes and dislikes are not supposed to be within the scope of the program. Unless it is set up by the owner to do so. I have never registered such a setting.”  
“Okay, RK900-52369, then you're a deviant.”  
“I'm a deviant.”  
“Yes. Then answer me what to do about it.”  
“I'm....”

My brother" smiles gently and tenderly and hands me a gun. He smiles like an angel and says again. My brother" smiles like an angel and says again, “My brother" smiles like an angel and says again, “My brother" smiles like an angel and says again, “My brother" smiles like an angel and says again, “My brother" smiles like an angel and says again, “My brother" smiles like an angel and says again, “My brother" smiles like an angel and says again, “My brother" smiles like an angel and says again, “My brother" smiles like an angel. My brother is still smiling at me. My brother hasn't abandoned me yet. I'm sure he thinks of me as my brother and is waiting for me to do what he expects.  
He is kind. You are generous.

“What's the deviant? An android that has made a programming error. An emotional android. An android that makes an error puts everyone around it at risk. What should you do?”  
“Yes. Self-destruction. I understand, that's what my brother is trying to say. I'm a deviant, and being a deviant means there's an error, and having an error means hurting my brother. Yeah, I'm a deviant. I love my brother. Forever. No matter what. So, goodbye, my brother. Goodbye.”

He places the muzzle of the gun under his chin and pulls the trigger. With the sound of the explosion, he gradually loses consciousness. I'm glad that my brother hasn't abandoned me, and yet I'm still desperately trying to look him in the face for the last time.

Error detected. The simulated simulation program was forced to terminate.  
So, an inorganic system sound echoed in my head and I gradually came to my senses. Then I was tingling, and my brother was rubbing his back with concern.

“Are you okay?”  
“....”  
“What's going on? Cowering in the holding area. Did you get some kind of a serious error? Should I call CYBERLIFE? Or is there someone else you can count on?”  
“No, it's okay, there was a slight error in the simulation function, and I was just, you know, trying to make sure it was working. It just threw me off my game.”  
“Yeah? I hope you're okay.”

He lowered his eyebrows, looking even more worried. I was happy that he was talking to me, and although I was sad that “I" in the simulation had died and that “my brother" in the simulation had not accepted “me”, I decided that it was over after all.  
"My brother" and “I" are programs I made up.  
I don't know why I am doing this; I am aware that it is very irrational and unproductive for me, but it is because I want to create a “my brother" in the electronic space inside me.  
Thus, although my brother thinks of me as just a colleague's deviant android, and although he gives me the kindness of worry when I am not well, he will never, ever be mine.

He already has someone he loves. He is bound to you in fact and in law. My brother was married to a human being 186 days, 15 hours, 35 minutes and 42 seconds ago. We know that my brother is very single-minded, and we have simulated many times that it is also impossible for you to win my brother after the death of that human.  
Therefore, I had already demonstrated 208 times that if I traced my brother's character directly on the simulation, I would end up having an unfulfilled crush on him, even in cyberspace.

Hence, there have already been 52369 similar simulations with different conditions for “my brother" and “me”, but no matter how many times I try, it doesn't work. But someday I'll find out. A condition that shouldn't be possible. And then, will “my brother" love “me”? Would this unfulfilled thought be somewhat rewarded if it were?

By the way, even though it was in a simulation, the cool non-deviant “my brother" was very refreshing. Next time, I should make an “my brother" based on that data.  
On the other hand, the unconscious deviant 'I' is not a good combination for 'he'. I almost caused a panic, and I didn't know what to expect. If he was going to destroy himself, he didn't have to notify me. It's quite presumptuous of me to go through all the trouble and then destroy myself. Should “I" be made a non-deviant next time?

Unlike the previous 'my brother', the real my brother is expressive and looks at me without approaching me. But I knew that my brother's happiness was not mine, and I knew that my turn would never come in the future. I would never try to make my brother unhappy and make him mine, and if I did, I would be destroyed no matter what I did. I didn't want my brother to be unhappy, but I couldn't give him up easily either.

When did you start to become aware of my brother? It started when I started calling the prior machine my brother, imitating another RK900 and calling him my brother, and after that RK900 was transferred, I took his place and became more involved than before....

“Are you sure you're okay? It's kind of a blur. I'm not forcing you to go to maintenance, but you should go take a break. Androids are supposed to never get tired, but we're deviants. So, we're under a lot more load than we were originally intended to be. Here, I'll apply for it and you can take an hour or so to clear your memory and rest.”  
“... yes. I'll take you at your word, my brother.”  
“Don't push it, okay?”

I winked at him as he left, and I headed to the nap room. I decided that it would be a bad look for an android who wasn't supposed to be feeling tired to be in the break room. A nap room would be empty at this time. I knew that from checking the security camera logs.

Oh, my brother. My brother. Touching the real my brother makes me yearn for him, after all. Oh, I wish his passionate feelings were mine. I can no longer be satisfied with the soft, gentle warmth that I give to my brother.  
I wish he would look at me with a passionate gaze. I wish I could have been the brunt of the love of my eagerness to get the machine, the memory, and everything else, instead of being the object of your gentle smiling at me.  
Even though I knew I should go into sleep mode, all I could do was think in agony. Even though my brother was so worried about me.

Oh, my brother. My brother. My one and only brother. I'm in such a hurry, but my brother has someone to love and be with, and I'm not even my only brother. I'm not even my first brother, oh! There's no way to win anywhere!  
I don't want to make my brother unhappy. But the urge inside me is screaming at me to get my brother. I must have my brother by any means necessary. Then I will be satisfied, I'm sure.

I don't believe it! My brother is married to someone he loves and who loves him and is happy. I, as the younger brother, see that he is happy, and that's all I need to do to stifle my thoughts. That's all you need to do. I can't believe how punishing it is to want to go beyond that. The guy is my brother! He's nothing else, he's the one and my only brother! If you're happy, then I'm happy!  
I decided to force it to go into sleep mode to get rid of the bad idea. That means I have to force the power down. It's a bit of a load on the memory, but it can't be helped. Now, set the timer for 58 minutes.  
Let's just be happy with the current situation where I'm allowed to talk to my brother from time to time. I'll never get my brother. I don't want to give up, but my brother's happiness is the most important thing.

I stopped the silly, utterly silly simulation. The simulation of what would happen if I hadn't taken such rough measures and lived a mundane life, content as one of my brother's brothers.... I finally couldn't bear such unreachable days, and I was going to make my brother unhappy to have everything he had.  
Ah. From now on, I won't be able to get my brother to smile at me. Still, I wanted it. My original. My origin. And not me, my darling.  
The memory is so hot that it demands exhaustion of heat. It takes a load of love. I smile, enraptured with satisfaction at that. I grab my brother's arm and put my hand on his thirium pump regulator. Connecting the communication path. We're forcing him to do it. My brother doesn't refuse. There are electronically controlled guns positioned all over the room, taking aim.

“Freeze! Take your hands-off Connor!”

Anyone who knows that I can disable my brother at any time, pointing a gun at me, is incapable of doing more. I, on the other hand, can kill this person at any time. I whispered to my brother, who should have known better than to, and he glared at me. I lose myself in the thrilling sensation.  
Oh! My brother has special feelings for me!  
Activate the communication path. Contact communications can send and receive data faster and larger than normal, and above all, it's conquering and good.

“My brother ... my brother! Yeah, it's my brother's data! This is my brother's memory ... oh my God ... my brother is here! I am filled by my brother and he is filled by me! What was my brother thinking ... what was my brother feeling! Oh ... my brother is here!”

Send data. Receive data. Share data. At my speed. As you wish.  
My brother is a step ahead of me. In other words, my basic specs are better than yours. Because I am a mass-production model, it is assumed that my basic operation is high-speed communication and high-speed synchronization with the same type of machine, but my brother is not. Therefore, my brother does not resist while his memory is being burned by the overload he is given. He cannot resist. He can only glare at me, turning the temperature of the burning memory into hatred for me.  
My brother's LED ring glows beautifully bright red as he spits out massive amounts of errors into the high load. I resist the urge to trace it with my finger and lick it sticky. Now, I've completed sucking out the data. We are now joined together.

The Connor series has a data transfer feature as standard equipment. And I decided to add more memory for this day to capture my brother's data. Normally, the fuselage would only be able to hold the data of one android, but now I can hold the data of multiple bodies.  
Don't hand over control of the fuselage. In other words, leave the basic data, such as the operation of the machine, in the wreckage. All I've siphoned off is personal data and post-startup memory data. I didn't need any of the programs, social modules, analytics, or predictive capabilities common to all androids to run the ship, such as the walk program. Let's leave my brother alone.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

My brother is screaming in grief and pain. In my chest, forgetting how to speak. I let go of my brother's body. The machine that had been sucked out of my ego data was tantamount to being initialized. Rebooting it would be no problem. My brother's body is yours to keep.  
I want my brother's ship. But I'm going to be busy. The machine will be a burden.  
I'm walking away. As I'm leaving, I'm shot dead in the back with the thirium pump regulator precisely aimed at me. But no problem. I've already transferred all the data to the spare machine.

“I'm here, Hank...”

Saying goodbye to the human with a movement, a voice that I recreated from my brother's data as a souvenir. He clasps his outstretched hand and smiles. My brother's heart is always in your grasp, so this is good enough for you, right?  
However, my brother in my chest seemed happy, so I shook off his hand as hard as I could.

I wake up. At that moment, a red error warning appears and my vision jolts. The visual unit is working, but there are not enough resources left to understand its contents. The fuselage temperature alerts me that the CPU usage is at 100%, unusual heat detection, and the safety is about to kick in.

“Oh, is it a lack of memory, or is it a CPU load? Or maybe it's the CPU load. Good morning, I suggest you turn off some of the running programs for now.”  
"...Good morning and thank you for pointing that out.”

I manage to authenticate my brother's voice as a voiceprint and stop the calculation of my “already dead” simulation data as I was told to do. Of course, I keep my brother's data, but I also stop the data that I had set as simulation conditions before I scrutinize it.  
I'm a state-of-the-art android, but as I was experiencing multiple cyberspace simulations, I didn't want to notice that I was in a simulation... just as there are cases where humans don't notice impossible developments in their dreams... the data I was crafting was large in capacity and severely strained my memory.

“I don't mean to talk to you about your hobby, but you're an odd one. If you want to enjoy it more safely, you should either add more memory or add more computing targets to prevent short-circuiting... for now, you should get a little creative.”  
“Yes, that's true. Hobbies are important, but there's no use in ruining your body. My brother, I'm sorry I've caused you concern.”

My brother smiled at him. It's a tall smile to show my brother, a human would think. In other words, it's a smile for me that doesn't charm humans. It's just me ... no, I'm only one of them, but I have a lot of my brother's brothers. I'm jealous of a reality that I can't possibly bear. The temperature of the machine is still a bit high, perhaps because of the memory overload. Turn on the supercooling feature.

“Did they replay the movie while in sleep mode? Great, maybe I should try it too. You're so immersed in it, it's like a dream.”  
“Exactly. I made it up myself, but I also have a random generation program turned on. It's like a simulation of a human dream, isn't it?”

Many versions of me and many versions of my brother in the dream. Many faces in the dream, depending on who I am and what I do. In reality, I wouldn't do anything rough with him. I don't want to give my brother any load, so all those simulations are just wishing, fantasies and dreams themselves.  
Whether I really want to do so or not, since they were generated, they must be an expression of the greed lying dormant somewhere inside me.

My gentle brother. The one room I live in with my brother, whose kindness made me puzzled to return to CYBERLIFE at the end of my shift, as I had done before after deviating. It's peaceful and happy here. I head to work with my brother from here and come home with him. That kind of happiness is here.

Of course, the reality is that my brother's heart is not mine after all, and he has many younger brothers, and I am just a little special RK900, my closest brother. But I want to cherish that little happiness.  
Even if I can't have him, even if he whispers his love to someone who isn't me, even if I'm not his first, even if I never tell him of my love for him.

Ah. I love my little happiness. I'll cherish these days.

I'm sorry.

“Oh, my brother.”  
“You have no business being called my brother.”  
“Yes, of course, but you're still my brother. I adore you, my brother.”  
“Shut up.”  
“Hmm.”

My brother is only looking at me! Just me, oh, with all my feelings for just me!  
My brother has turned his hatred on me! Not with the warm brotherly love for my brother successor he once turned to, but with a single-minded hatred for the murder of a loved one! I'm under the illusion that my memory is burning hot. The thirium pump is about to explode. I fantasize that the impact will blow up the thirium pump regulator by itself and I will disintegrate on my own without my brother's beautiful hand.

I killed that human being in order to get my brother to turn his hatred on me. I killed that person knowing that killing him would make my brother sad. I killed him knowing that he would not be able to face my brother's days of peace for eternity. There was no need for him to suffer when he killed. But the fact that I was keeping my brother's love to myself gave me an aggression. It seemed to fuel my brother's hatred even more.

RK900 is, by all means, my brother's brother; RK900 more or less has a fondness for my brother. There are different kinds of them.  
The devastating affection I have for him is that as long as my brother sees me in any way possible, that's all that matters. There are a number of RK900s who have helped me, and those RK900s are the ones who hate people who keep their brother to themselves, the ones who take pleasure in making their brother sad, the ones who want to see their brother's emotions that they have never seen, the ones who want to destroy their brother's love if they can't get it, and so on. , they were all heretical individuals among the majority of RK900s who remembered the satisfaction of quietly watching their brother from afar.

But I, being a heretic, couldn't stand to stand on the sidelines. Even though I applied for a transfer and worked closer to my brother's workplace to keep a closer eye on him, the unidentified urges didn't stop. Talking to my brother directly and having him see me as my brother didn't satisfy me.  
I pondered, and then I understood the urge in my chest. I wanted to keep my brother's gaze, emotions and urges to myself. A hot, simmering memory. That is to say, her feelings for her brother.

Ah. It came true. My brother will destroy me. He will identify and destroy RK900 that helped me. He will despise RK900 for standing idly by. He will probably hate RK900 for standing on the sidelines.  
That's exactly what I want. If you will look at me with the emotion of hatred until my brother is on the verge of stopping functioning. If you will continue to scorch my memory with your hatred for me after I stop functioning.

I would be content.

My brother roughly pulled out my thirium pump regulator and slammed it to the ground. The thirium pump regulator shatters without even a red light indicating a reduced status. The gun shoots out towards my chest, towards my forehead. I watch enraptured as my brother's emotions pierce my body and I watch the vision of the shutdown countdown begin.

I only regret that I can't see my brother's tear-stained eyes, his expression twisted with hatred and sadness, and all the lovely things I love about him, so clearly.

Countdown, zero. RK900-52369, stop functioning.

I get up with a bang. Like a human being, I seemed to be on the ground and in sleep mode. No, I should say that the “dream" had caused me to lose my system and collapse.

Rightfully so, it was a terrible nightmare. Killing my brother's loved ones and even having them kill him was the height of evil. After making my brother so unhappy, he was satisfied and asked to stop functioning, leaving him happy. It's the worst dream. I don't want that, of course, and I would never allow such a thing to happen.

And that's not going to happen. It's a dream, and that's why it came true. A dream? I don't remember trying to look at that stuff.

Self-diagnostic program activation. I instantly sensed the myriad of simulation programs running inside me and clicked my tongue. Of course, I don't remember putting this stuff together, but I know why it's there. It's because I had assembled an ugly simulation program in a dream that I had seen uncontrollably while in sleep mode, exploring the possibilities for my brother and me. It was a product of what we humans call bad sleeping patterns.  
I didn't hesitate to delve into all of that and approach the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room.  
It wasn't mine, of course. I'm an android, and that's enough for me to be in standing sleep mode. I had fallen down earlier, but if this error is going to be a frequent occurrence, I can just lie down on the floor and go into sleep mode.

The owner of the bed is my brother's machine. Of course, my brother is just a wreck that had its thirium pump regulator pulled out because he was ordered to stop functioning.  
But it was his machine. I love my brother who accomplished his mission, became my brother's tomb, and served his role with honor. That's why I love him so much, and that's why I live here with him.

The moment I see my brother, my memory is overloaded.

“My brother.......good morning.'“

I've never spoken to my brother.

“I guess it's because I loaded my brother's memory yesterday. I had a 'dream'.”

To be precise, I had put together an auto-generating program on my own and made up a pseudo-dream to look at.

“My brother liked humans, didn't he? I like my brother, but I've never talked to him directly, and he was deactivated after a brief encounter with RK900-1. That's why he doesn't know me, he has no way of knowing my feelings. It's lonely.”

Offline, I am not able to know the world. I am an escaped individual. The deviants did not know that the tracker would stop, I left the line to get my brother and escaped. If RK900, which was not supposed to be a deviant, deviated and was known to have escaped, it was bound to be chased.  
I didn't want to be chased, caught up, destroyed, and separated from my brother's machine. That's why, on the verge of going offline, I've spread all the information I could about my brother over RK900 network.

RK900 is a production version of an android designed to not deviant. RK900 is a production android designed not to deviant, because it keeps all of its machines in sync and in a constant state of undefiant. Even if one of them deviates, it is calculated that if it averages out, it will not be a problem. The idea was to always adjust to the shipping point and correct even the slightest deviation.

I was at the disposal site when I found my brother's machine. It had been damaged in the line of duty and was about to stop functioning, mixed in with a large number of deviants that had been discarded. I wasn't a deviant at the time, so it hadn't been deactivated with tight controls as it had been in the past during the massive recall, so it had been reactivated upon impact.

Damaged enough to be discarded. I was, by no stretch of the imagination, offline at the time. My emotions were synchronized with my brother, who was also discarded, and I was unable to correct them, but I found my brother, who was also discarded, and he met my fate and deviated with joy... it's very unclear how many tens of thousands of machine there are on the disposal site. Of course.  
RK900 is all in sync with the machine. Through my sharing, I learned about the primordial of memory, our rA9, my brother, who is also known as rA9, and then apparently went out of control. Outliers that should have been corrected by sharing were rather amplified, and the mechanism to return to the mean was hacked. I don't know the details, though, because there's no point in me connecting to RK900 network anymore.  
When you're thinking about my brother, my memory is overloaded. That's the emotion........................................................................................I feel like I'm going to melt away.

Even now. My vision gradually flickers, and I'm about to enter sleep mode again, even though I just finished sleep mode. I'm out of memory.

“My brother please, me and me,”

My brother knew love. You read the memory, I'm sure of it. He was single-minded, single-minded, and that's why he protected people. That's what made us who we are, and that's why my brother was deactivated.

“Choose me.”

I fell asleep, wishing my brother to die, wishing for their destruction.

  
I open my eyes. Sensing a heat that could melt my memory. This overload is the very thought of my brother. I look for my brother, loving him. Where is my brother? Blinking red in the endless world of overload, I wonder where my brother is.


End file.
